


I Get By With a Little Help From My (best) Friend

by spenceresque (orphan_account)



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, TW - Mentions of death, TW - mentions of abuse, ryden fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 12:10:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8055778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/spenceresque
Summary: 'Minutes have passed before either of them comprehend what actually just happened, and why they're sat on the kitchen floor at 2am holding hands.'
In which Ryan's dad dies, and it's Brendon's job to talk to him.





	I Get By With a Little Help From My (best) Friend

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not know anything about Ryan's past, and all scenarios in this story are not real and are created for fiction use only!

Ryan felt the tears pricking at his eyes, but he can't cry. He just got off the phone with his aunt, and he's been sitting in silence since the call ended. He can't cry. Not here, not now. There's people here, people who don't need to stress about him, so he just inhaled sharply, and stood up. Brendon noticed that he was acting a little off, but when he tried to ask Ryan about it, he had already retired to his bunk. Brendon followed him, like a lost child, and pulled back the curtain to Ryan's bed. "Hey, Ry? Is something up? You're acting a little weird," he asked, softly. "It's- I'm fine, just a little tired, y'know, after the show and all." Ryan replied, stiffly, not even turning to face his friend, in case he spotted the tear stains under his eyes. "Okay," replied Brendon, skeptically. "Well, if you need to talk to someone, I'm always here." he said as brightly as possible, and forced a smile, even though Ryan wasn't looking at him. "Thanks, B. I'm fine though." Ryan replied, his voice slightly muffled by his pillow. "I think I'll get some sleep, too," Brendon yawned, before climbing into the bed below Ryan's. "Night, Bren." Ryan said, in monotone, trying not to let the tears show in his voice. "Night, Ry." Brendon said, with an air of sadness about his voice. Ryan waited until he heard Brendon snoring lightly, and Spencer and Jon soon after, until he actually allowed himself to cry. Not bawling-with-tears crying, just a few tears, silently sobbing, because the last thing he wants is for someone to hear. He clenches his fists and tells himself, 'get a fucking grip, he never gave a shit about you, he told you that you were worthless, he fucking beat you every night, so you can't fucking cry'. This only makes it worse, and he has to hold his breath to stop the sobs from escaping. He breathes deeply, slowly, and wipes the tears from underneath his eyes. He hears Brendon stirring in the bed underneath his, and buries his head in his comforter, pretending to be sleeping. He hears Brendon quietly stepping out from his bunk, and climbing up to lean his arm's on Ryan's. "Ry, give it up", he whispered softly "I know you're awake." Ryan turned around to face Brendon, praying that it was too dark for Brendon to see that he'd been crying. Brendon's eyes were dark, and pleading, like he knows something Ryan doesn't. Without permission, Brendon lifts himself onto Ryan's bunk and sits next to him. "Ryan," Brendon whispered, looking over at him. "I need you to tell me right now, what's bothering you."

"Why should I?" Ryan mumbled, clasping his hands in his lap. 

"Because," Brendon whispered "If you don't tell anyone what's on your mind, then you'll have to bottle everything up, and it'll hurt, so much more."

"How do you even know I'm sad?"

"Because, you're my best friend, Ry, and I heard you crying, and you just told me. Now stop changing the subject and talk to me." Brendon whispered. 

"Shut up," Spencer mumbled, still half-asleep, as he rolled over in his bunk. Brendon jumped down from the bed, and signaled for Ryan to follow him. They walked to the kitchen, and sat down on the cold floor, facing each other. "So," Ryan started. "My aunt called today, and told me that my dad, uh- he died." Ryan whispered, blinking back tears. There was a moment of silence, before Brendon looked up, and whispered "Oh, shit. I'm so fucking sorry Ry, I shouldn't have made you talk about that, fuck. I'm so sorry, Ryan." Another moment of silence. The dripping of the tap, the engine of the tourbus, more silence. "Bren," Ryan whispered, looking up at Brendon, meeting his eyes for the first time in this conversation. "Brendon," he whispered, shuffling forward to lean his head on Brendon, who was already winding his arms around his waist. "I just thought y'know, that maybe one day I'll have the chance to make him proud of me." Ryan whispered, nuzzling himself into Brendon's neck "But I guess I kinda lost my chance, didn't I?". Tears spilled from his eyes, and he felt Brendon's hand stroking his hair. 

"Ryan," Brendon whispered, turning his head to look him in the eye. "You don't need your dad to be proud of you, to show that you're an amazing, talented person." 

"You're just saying that, it doesn't make it true." Ryan said stubbornly, looking away.

"No, I'm saying it because it is true." 

"But-"

"Please don't deny it, Ry, because you're the most amazing, kind, talented, beautiful and wonderful person I've met in my life an-" His words are muffled by Ryan's lips colliding with his, and before he can realize what's happening, he's being pulled in closer, and he can feel Ryan's hand resting on his jaw and his other hand resting on his shoulder, and he realizes that his own hands have found their way to Ryan's shoulders, and Ryan licks Brendon's lower lip, asking for permission to enter, and before he can respond, he's being pulled deeper, and he tugs at Ryan's hair a little, and when Ryan bites Brendon's lip, he can't stop himself from moaning quietly, ever so quietly, and Ryan unwillingly smiles at this, breaking the kiss apart, with their heads still pressed together, and for one reason or another, they both start giggling uncontrollably. Minutes have passed before either of them comprehend what actually just happened, and why they're sat on the kitchen floor at 2am holding hands. 

"So," Ryan whispered, smirking knowingly "You called me beautiful."

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote another Ryden thing.


End file.
